


waving your banner all over the place

by stardustbrian



Series: brooklyn 39 [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Mostly Fluff, heavily inspired by b99, we love supportive friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustbrian/pseuds/stardustbrian
Summary: Freddie had asked John about it on Friday, and John had agreed to tag along to dinner with Freddie’s parents.“I’m going to come out to them,” Freddie had said.  “Just like I did to you and the boys.”John had considered him carefully, and then had simply said, “Okay.”





	waving your banner all over the place

**Author's Note:**

> strong brooklyn 99 fusion, though knowledge of the show isn't necessary to read this. 
> 
> beta'd by my friend hannah who does not have an ao3 and yet beta's me every time love u babe <3
> 
> part of a series! it has NOT been written chronologically, and updates will show that fact but! i hope you enjoy!

Freddie had asked John about it on Friday, and John had agreed to tag along to dinner with Freddie’s parents.  

“I’m going to come out to them,” Freddie had said.  “Just like I did to you and the boys.”

John had considered him carefully, and then had simply said, “Okay.”

They’d scheduled it for Monday evening, it was Freddie’s parents’ last night in town so he’d only have to deal with the fallout for the morning and part of the afternoon of the next day, and John had agreed as he left the command unit, saying that even though he didn’t work Monday because of a scheduling mix-up, he’d be ready to go at seven o’clock, and that they’d meet at his place so that he could drive them over to the restaurant.

So when John answers the door with red eyes, an irritated look, a kid with a runny nose propped up on his hip, old Met Police shirt and sweats and fuzzy socks and all at 6:58 pm, Freddie can’t help but feel that somehow this night was not going to go at all as he had planned it.

“Fred,” John tries before coughing.  “Freddie, what are you doing here?”

Freddie nervously spreads his hands in the semblance of jazz hands, and John’s eyes grow wide.

“I completely forgot, I’m so sorry, Freddie,” he says, setting down his daughter before hoarsely saying, “Go find Mum, alright?”  

Laura nodded and quickly vanished.

“Shit, Freddie, I’m sorry, I’ve mucked it all up,” he says, coughing again, this time wetly.  

Freddie’s eyebrows raises.  “Never mind that, dear, what on earth is going on with you and why are you out of bed?”

The second part of that question is a joke, but as Freddie looks closer, he can see just how miserable the younger man looks, as he closes his eyes and leans against the door, sniffling pitifully, and breathing through his mouth.

“We think it’s the flu,” he says.  “We all got our shots, of course, but we think it’s a different strain.  Laura got it and then I’ve got it now as well, it’s a miracle the other kids haven’t gotten it yet, or Veronica for that matter.”

“Shit, Deaky,” Freddie says.  “Well, please don’t take this the wrong way, but please do not come out to dinner with me tonight.”

“Not sure there’s a wrong way I could take that, Fred,” Deaky says with that wry undercurrent of humor and opens his eyes to look at Freddie again, smile tugging at his lips.  

“Still, much better than the last time you got sick.  Becoming a father has really mellowed you out, Deaks.”

John shrugs.  “I’m at home and don’t need to take down an entire drug ring to prove my worth to the whole command unit?  So it’s a lot less stress I’m under.”

“And less stress means less broken windows?”

“I seem to recall you being the one to lock me inside that room,” John says, calling over his shoulder as he walks into the house, Freddie following shortly after him and shutting the door behind himself.  

“Well that’s all in the past, isn’t it, darling.”

“Mmhmm,”John says, as Veronica appears.

“Veronica, dear,” Freddie says, kissing her cheek.  “How goes it?”

“It’s been better,” she said, looking harried but smiling all the same.

“Say, Ronnie, darling,” he says and he can tell by the look that John sends him that he knows exactly what Fred is about to ask her.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to come have dinner with me?”

“He’s coming out to his parents tonight,” John says, coughing into the elbow of his sleeve.  “He asked me to come, but I obviously can’t go now.”

“Oh, Freddie, that’s wonderful!” She exclaims, drawing him into a hug.  She then glances at her husband, who’s smiling despite the fact that he’s in the midst of trying to hack up his lungs.  When his coughing fit stops, John says, “Go on then, why don’t you go with him instead.”

She clearly hesitates.  “What about you?”

“I’m ill, not dead,” he replies.  “I can handle the kids. We’ve got those leftovers and I don’t think they’ll need much persuading for a movie night.”

She presses a soft kiss into his hair.  “If you’re sure,” she says. 

“I am.  Now go, get changed, and have a nice night.  You deserve it, love.”

By the time Veronica returns in something other than the sweats she had been wearing, John has called all the kids to him and they’re delightfully digging into their mac and cheese when Freddie and Veronica leave the apartment.  

John and Veronica blow each other kisses, as John leans against the door.

“Take care of her,” John tells Freddie, who nods and winks back with a cheeky, “Take care of yourself, Deaky.  Your soulmate is in safe hands.”

Feeling emboldened, Freddie grabs Veronica’s arm as they head to the van, and Veronica laughs as they put in an old CD as they head towards the restaurant where they’ll meet the Bulsaras.  

They’ve just settled in and made an order for an appetizer when the Bulsaras arrive.  They are charmed by Veronica, who Freddie introduces as “a friend” and they’ve settled into idle chatter when Freddie says, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Without missing hardly a beat, his mother says, “You two are dating?  It’s pretty obvious, dear,” with a sweet smile. 

Maybe it’s the fight-or-flight instinct that kicks in, but he can feel the words come tumbling out of his mouth.  “Yes! We are! We are dating!”

At the look Veronica sends him, he just puts on his sweetest smile and subtly covers her very obvious wedding ring with his hand, squeezing her hand gently in his.  

Veronica waits for a few minutes, before politely excusing herself to use the restroom.  Freddie quickly makes his excuses and follows her, startling her when he puts her hand on her shoulder.

She whirls around, and then worries her lip softly.  “Freddie, what are you doing?”

“I thought I was ready,” he says, eyes cast downward.  “But clearly I’m not.” 

When he looks up again, her expression has softened even further.  “Alright,” she says simply.

She slides her wedding ring off of her finger and tucks it securely into a pocket in her purse, triple checking it and zipping it shut.  

“Alright, we’ll pretend that we’re dating,” she said, “and then you can pretend in a couple of weeks that we’ve broken up and then it’ll be like this never happened.”

“You truly are a blessing, Mrs. Deacon,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Go on then,” she said, with a wry smile.  “I really did have to use the restroom, I’ll be back in a minute or two.”

He returns back to the table, trying to shake the feeling of his father looking at him, like he knows something that Freddie doesn’t even know himself.  He settles back into pleasant conversation with his mother, discussing how his sister was doing. When Veronica returns to the table, his mother switches to talking to her instead so quickly that Freddie gets whiplash.

“So Veronica,” she says cheerfully, “when did the two of you get together?”

“About two months ago,” Veronica lies smoothly, turning to Freddie to gaze at him.  “We met through a mutual friend who works with Freddie.”

“That’s lovely,” Freddie’s mother says, and he can practically see the wedding registry she’s creating for the two of them in her head, although if he was being honest with himself, she was probably just glad to see her son in a relationship with someone after he’d broken up with Mary quite some time ago (ironically, for the same reason that he can’t bring himself to tell his parents about tonight).

Suddenly, Veronica’s phone rings and it’s John calling, and Freddie is panicking because that is very clearly a picture of the two of them on their wedding day as John’s contact picture, and she immediately declines the call, and he looks up at his parents, hoping that by some miracle, they haven’t seen it -

But he looks into their shocked and confused eyes and knows that they have.

Veronica stutters out an excuse, an explanation, that’s just a stage photo, she’s an actor you see, and so was the other man in the photo (and the story is so completely unconvincing but it’s heartwarming all the same to see her try to protect him like this) until Freddie lays an arm on hers, and she stops talking.  

“It’s okay, darling,” he says, smiling, if not quite genuinely.  

He turns to his parents.  “The man calling just now was John.  Veronica’s husband.”

The air grows thick around them, and it’s silent until his father clears his throat.

“We understand.”

He’s disappointed, that much is clear.  But what there is to understand, Freddie has no clue.  He feels like he’s just missed a very important part of the conversation.

“I’m sorry, what?”

His mother does her best to hide her grimace.  “Love is complicated,” she says finally, falling silent.

Freddie turns to his father again, still feeling clueless.  

“No wedding ring,” his father says, nodding at Veronica’s hand.  

And then suddenly Freddie understands.

“And you both would be...okay with this?” he asks skeptically.

“You were so worried when you called,” his father says, nodding.  “We were worried that you were going to tell us that you were gay.”

An icy chill coats the table that has nothing to do with the temperature of the restaurant, and in contrast, Freddie can feel his blood boiling.  

“So you would be happier to know that I’m having an affair with a married woman than for me to be in a happy relationship with a man?”

His mother looks nervously at his father, who says nothing.  

Freddie stares down at the chipped black nail polish on his left hand and suddenly comes to a decision.

He looks up directly at his parents, ignoring Veronica’s concerned look.  “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that your worst fears are real. I’m as gay as a daffodil.  And I don’t really care what you think about it.”

At this, he turns to Veronica and lifts up her hand to kiss it.  “And I’ll have you know that Veronica is  _ very  _ happily married to her husband,” he says softly, and the clutter of silverware falling into a bin makes him become aware of the atmosphere of the restaurant again.  He tightens his grip on Veronica’s hand. “Come on, dear, let’s get you back to him.”

They leave, hand in hand, and Freddie doesn’t look back at his parents.  He knows how it will turn out, anyways, he doesn’t need any kind of visual clues for that.  

Veronica drives them back to the Deacon household, inviting him in for tea - “You’re shaking like a leaf” - and they quietly enter the house, toeing off their shoes and turning on as few lights as possible.

They still somehow manage to wake up John, who had been curled up on the couch under a few blankets.  He blinks sleepily at them. 

“How’d it go then?” he asks, voice hoarse and scratchy.

Veronica looks at Freddie with concern as she sets about making the tea, and Freddie feels so bone tired that he flops down on the couch, next to John.

“Not well, darling,” he says, reaching out to brush John’s hair back and flinches at how warm John’s skin feels.  

“Oh, you’ve got a horrid fever, darling!”

“I know,” John says with humor in his voice.

“Don’t worry” he continues, sitting up.  “I’ve taken something for it, and hopefully with any luck and loads of blankets it’ll break by tomorrow.  Besides, fevers are always worse at night.”

“Well, come here, darling,” Freddie says, patting his lap.

“I’m still contagious, Freddie,” John says, then coughs once as if to prove his point.

“Don’t care,” Freddie says.  “I just want to run my hands through that lovely hair of yours and maybe soothe some of your aches and pains.”

Freddie can tell that John doesn’t fully want to if the way that he’s side-eyeing him is any clue, but he shuffles over and lays his head in Freddie’s lap anyways.

“But really, how’d it go?” John says, closing his eyes as Freddie’s hands brushes through his hair.  “I don’t need details if you don’t want to give them.”

“No, it’s fine, love.  Basically, I was going to tell them, then panicked and pretended that your Ronnie and I were dating, but then the jig was up when you called, sorry about that by the way.”

“It wasn’t important,” John says, shaking his head.  “Just giving an update on Laura’s temperature, I figured to just text her instead after that.  It probably turned out for the better anyways, give my throat a rest for a bit.”

“Well, you dear wife was an absolute star and soldiered on,” Freddie says, chuckling.  “Her contact picture for you is of your wedding day, lovely pictures by the way. She made up a whole story, that you were both actors, but it wasn’t terribly convincing.  Where was Anita when you needed her?”

“I heard that,” Veronica calls cheerfully from the kitchen.  

“Nevertheless, it warmed my black heart to see her try,” he says loudly, and John laughs, which turns into a cough.  Freddie waits a bit for it to die down and watches as John closes his eyes as it does. He watches the younger man breathe for a long moment before continuing his story.

“But in the end, you know, they knew...and they reacted...well, more or less how I expected to when I told them.”

He can see John’s eyes hazily slide open in confusion, and he clucks once, renewing his efforts to card through the younger man’s hair.  

“But enough about me, what about your night?”

“Was good,” John mumbles.  “Let Laura pick the movie, and Robert looked after the other two, which was very responsible of him.  Really lovely of him to do so.”

Veronica set the cup of tea down in front of Freddie gently.  

“I’ll make sure to return him to your room safe and sound soon,” he whispers, and she smiles before retreating into her room with her own cup.

“Which movie?” he asks, glad to note that at least John seemed to be able to breathe through his nose now.

“Tangled.”

“Your five year old has excellent taste,” Freddie says, and John smiles again.

“Yes, she does, doesn’t she?  She also says that Rapunzel and Flynn are like me and Ronnie.”

“And who’s who?”

“Well, I’m Rapunzel, of course.”

“You absolutely are, darling,” he says, bending down to press a kiss to John’s forehead.  

They chat for a bit longer, but it’s not long before Freddie can tell that John’s eyes keep fluttering shut, and he seems to be burrowing deeper under his little collection of throw blankets each time he does so.

So Freddie gently helps John up off of the couch and trails after him on the way to John and Veronica’s bedroom, catching John when he slips on the smooth wooden floor, still in his fuzzy socks. Freddie commits the moment to memory and makes good on his promise to Veronica, helping John in under the covers next to his already asleep wife, and watching them silently until he’s sure that John’s fallen asleep.

He takes a cab home, feeling empty but also somehow revived.  Like the world had ended but now he only had to create a new one.

His mother visits him tomorrow, apologizing and telling him that she accepts him, and apologizes on behalf of his father, who hasn’t quite come around to that bit yet.

He kisses her on the cheek and forgives her, and tells her not to apologize for his father, not when he’s a grown man who can make his own decisions.

She chuckles softly, and they hug, and she leaves to return home, and suddenly his apartment is very empty.

A week later, when a knock is on his door and in spills Brian, Roger, and John with a scrabble board and loud chatter, and he sets up a little pride flag at his desk, it gets better.  Because these people are his family, too, and as he watches Roger complain about Brian’s word that scored incredibly high and Deaky laughs, Freddie decides that he’s alright. And that he will be alright later.  And that he’s happy to be who he is.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr under the same username


End file.
